


So you can learn to be kind

by Naynda



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Abused Isaac Lahey, Awesome Melissa McCall, Canonical Child Abuse, Claustrophobia, Crying, Flashbacks, Gen, Good Parent Melissa McCall, Grades, How Do I Tag, Hugs, Hurt Isaac Lahey, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Isaac Lahey Feels, Isaac Lahey Needs a Hug, Isaac-centric, Nightmares, POV Isaac Lahey, Past Child Abuse, Please Don't Hate Me, Protective Melissa McCall, Protective Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Sad Isaac Lahey, Sad and Happy, Sobbing, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naynda/pseuds/Naynda
Summary: Isaac Lahey doesn't have a mother anymore - but maybe, in Melissa, he found someone who might just care about him like a mother would.(Essentially 5 times Melissa took care of Isaac and one time he took care of her.)
Relationships: Isaac Lahey & Melissa McCall
Comments: 37
Kudos: 102





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I'm not an english native speaker, so if there are any mistakes (which I'm sure of) I'd be very grateful if you could point them out to me! Also, if anything doesn't sound right or could use improvement, don't hesitate to tell me :)
> 
> Please be aware that this story deals with sensitive topics such as different punishments, victim blaming, trauma, suicide, and child abuse. These topics can be triggering for some, so please, please, please be careful. Your mental - and physical - health is so important.

**[1.] Nightmare**

If Isaac knows one thing it is that he'll never be truly over all the things (his mind still refuses to call it abuse) his father did to him. The memory will be forever ingrained into his mind, lurking in the shadows of his deepest, darkest thoughts, just waiting for a chance to show itself, taking control of Isaacs mind once more.  
Yes. He'll never be completely over being shouted at, threatened, being the target for glasses or plates being thrown at him, sometimes with precise aim, sometimes sloppily, always shattering on the wall - and with the kitchen ware, another sliver of hope of just having a normal family shattered.  
But all of that - the shouting, the threaths, the porcelain shards stuck in his skin - aren't what Isaac hates the most. The one thing he'd never be truly over is always omnipresent in his mind; always there.  
The freezer.  
Sometimes, Isaac still feels the surge of so much panic, so much fear and shock and _stoppleasemakeitstop  
ohmygod  
i'lldoanything  
justdon'tputmeinthere  
please - _  
and he hates it, really, really loathes being so weak. But he can't really change anything about that - can't change the absolute terror that fills every bone in his body whenever Melissa tells both Scott and himself that they'd behaved badly so now they had to be punished. Can't change the unbelievable relief flooding through him when he hears that said punishment only includes helping her with housework more and a lecture from Melissa. (He doesn't miss the concerned, motherly looks she gives him whenever she sees him flinch at the mention of punishment. But she doesn't say a word, so neither does he.)  
And Isaac sure as hell can't change the nightmares that attack him almost nightly, dragging him back into a spiral of memories. __

___He doesn't know what he did wrong - but not knowing that isn't so unusual for him. It doesn't matter now anyhow - all he has to focus on is not passing out._  
_His thoughts race, chasing each other, circling around in his head. His heart beats so fast against his ribcage he's sure he's going to explode.  
_ _His father's voice is eerily calm, a whisper, when he tells him, "Isaac. Get in the freezer. Now." Isaac flinches violently, staring blankly at the freezer's lid, a scream forming in his throat.  
_ _**"Please,** dad. Don't do this. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I swear I'll be good, I'm sorry, please, plea-", he sobs, frantically trying to break out of his father's grasp.  
_ _His father just smirks.  
_ _Opens the lid.  
_ _And then he's inside - and the lid just... closes. Isaac hears the chains rattling, hears his father's footsteps as he walks away. He's whistling.  
_ _Isaac can't breathe. He can't - he has to - please, please, **please** ____ _

____ _ _

____He wakes, tangled in the sheets, gasping for breath, a scream forming inside his throat. There are tears on his cheeks, and for a second, he feels mortified. Crying is for the weak, he's weak, he's pathetic, he's nothing, he's worthless, he's -  
"Isaac? Honey? Are you okay? Answer me". He flinches violently (again), eyes frantically searching the pitch-black darkness in his room.  
His bedside table lamp flickers on, dim light filling the room. Melissa stands beside his bed, her hair dishevelled, a worn-out look on her face. She is in her pyjamas, barefoot, and it's with massive guilt that Isaac realises he probably woke her up.  
"I- I-", he gasps for air, still looking around the room in panic, eyes adjusting to the light. His whole body trembles with fear, his heart thumps against his ribcage. "Oh my god, I am **so** sorry, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have woken you up. I'm sorry.  
God. I am such a mess right now. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Please, Melissa, go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you. I - I - you shouldn't be here. I'm okay, I'm totally fine. Go back to bed. I'm so -", he rambles, refusing to look at her. He knows the look in her eyes will be one of anger, one of disgust.  
Isaac is interrupted by Melissas gentle hand on his forehead, slowly tracing circles onto his skin. The motion is much the same as a mother checking her child for a fever and Isaac is surprised just how _motherly _it is - still, he has to gather all his willpower not to flinch away.  
"Honey. Isaac. Please, please look at me", she whispers, hand never leaving his face. He swallows and turns his head, disbelief rising in his body when he doesn't see disgust etched into her features. Only compassion and maybe the slightest hint of sadness, too.  
(Why would she be sad for him? It doesn't even make sense.)  
Involuntarily, he leans into her touch - but only a second later he realises what he's actually doing and with yet another surge of panic, he withdraws. An apology forms on his lips, a meek _I'm sorry, please don't, don't be mad at me, don't lock me in a freezer, please_ already waiting to come out.  
He remains silent, tears spilling onto his cheeks, trembling with fear and the pure, simple need to be held.  
"You don't have to apologise, Isaac. Not ever, alright? I know that what you... experienced will take a long time to heal. And I'll help you with that. It's okay, it really is. Stop apologising, honey, please.  
Yes, you woke me. So what? I'm not letting you face your fears and your memories alone. It's okay, honey. Really. Trust me", her voice is _so _gentle. He finds himself almost believing her.  
He merely nods, still too shaken up for a proper response. She smiles, hand reaching up to pat his own; but then she decides to envelop him in a hug instead. Isaac closes his eyes, focusing on her steady heartbeat, forcing the image of the freezer and his father's voice out of his head.  
Melissa begins to hum softly, and it's so much like a mother singing her son to sleep that Isaac almost starts crying again. But he doesn't.  
He just closes his eyes, focusing on Melissa's presence, on her grounding him and _protecting _him and keeping him safe._________ _


	2. Broken Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update this fan fiction! I had some stuff going on, things I needed to work through and take care of, and I apologise for the incredibly long wait! Hopefully, this isn't too crappy...  
> Thank you so much for all the reviews and kudos. If anyone is still reading this story: I hope you'll like this chapter :)  
> The head-canon that Isaacs mother took her own life isn't mine, Daniel Sharman once said he imagined her to have died by suicide. Also, as for the lasagne, sliiight AU, I guess?  
> As always, if there are mistakes in this chapter, please tell me! Additionally, if anybody has suggestions for the next chapters, you can tell me.
> 
> Also, please be careful when you read this! There are flashbacks and references to child abuse and death as well as a brief mention of suicide. Please, please take care of yourself!  
> Your mental health always comes first and is more important than reviews, clicks or kudos could ever be.

**[2.] Broken Glass**

His father had often told him what a _useless_ boy he was - always messing things up, never good enough. Sure, in the beginning, Isaac hadn't paid much attention to what his father had told him - he was, after all, his _father_ and parents got angry at their children every once in a while. Truthfully, Isaac would've been more concerned if his father _hadn't_ lost his temper every now and then - it meant they had a normal family dynamic.  
Until they didn't.  
He remembers only a few things of the "before" (before his mother's mental health got bad, then worse. Before they had found her hanging from that ceiling, there were days filled with sunshine and laughter, happiness and hugs, jokes and love.) He remembers so many things of the "after". (After they had buried her, after Camden had died in combat. After his father had started drinking too much, there were days filled with agony and fear, freezers and blood, pain and hatred.)  
He can never _quite_ get his father's voice out of his head, telling him that he's a disappointment and useless, so useless. Sometimes, his memory will mix up the Before with the After. Will have Isaac listen to his father's gentle, proud words, then, mere seconds later, to his exasperated, cold voice. Isaac always wants to flinch back, whenever this happens. He hates it.  
And now?  
At the McCall's, nobody tells him he's useless, nobody screams at him, hits him or locks him anywhere. Instead, they smile at him, tell him they're proud of him, help him with his problems, even hug him sometimes. At the McCall's, Isaac knows he's safe.  
Or, well, he hopes so. The truth is, he was _scared_ of Scott when he had thrown Isaac so hard he's crushed into a wall. Was so scared that his whole body screamed to run, whenever he saw Scott, even days after the incident. Sometimes, Isaac wonders if Melissa, had she known the full truth, would be alright with what happened.  
He's scared tonight, as well, but it's a different kind of fear - one he can't quite place. Some kind of un-easiness, like something is about to happen and there is no way to prevent it.  
Melissa has cooked lasagne for dinner. The whole house smells of it - and Isaac loves it. It's been a while since he sat at a dinner table with people who _genuinely_ cared about him, didn't just pretend, and as stunning as this is, Isaac wants to lie to himself, wants to believe that it might just last.  
Scott, seated across him, eats his lasagne in such a hurry Isaac laughs to himself, quietly, so quietly. It's as if Scott fears there won't be enough, which Isaac rolls his eyes at. Melissa cooked plenty.  
She sits on Scott's left side, making small talk about everything - her work, what Scott and Isaac have been up to, their love lifes, the weather, how the lacrosse match went and Isaac happily answers, nodding and smiling. He buries his uneasiness, the slight feeling of panic (where does this even _come_ from?) deep, deep down into his soul. He'll deal with that as soon as -  
"-chemistry test? How did you do on that, Isaac?" the curious voice of Melissa McCall interrupts his thought process and just like that, Isaac freezes. Now, he can place this feeling of panic he's had the whole night.  
The _chemistry test._ They took it a couple days ago, Scott had even helped him study - but Isaac had always been incredibly bad (useless, his father's voice tells him) at remembering all there was about this subject in particular. While answering the questions, Isaac had already known he'd fail it.  
He can feel Scott watching him, carefully, his fork high up in the air. There's a bit of cheese on his chin.  
"Isaac?", Melissa repeats, and now, there's exasperation in her voice. Isaac flinches. Exasperation can transform into anger so easily.  
He jumps up from the table ( _get away from here, just run, you can't let them see you like this, they'll hate you, can't even get good grades, getawaygetawaygetawaygetaway, **getaway-**_ ) Suddenly, there's pain shooting up through his right arm, something dripping, something falling to the floor. Belatedly, Isaac realises it's his blood that's dripping on the floor and there are pieces of glass by his feet. His eyes widen.  
He just broke his glass - no, he just broke one of _Mrs. McCall's_ glasses. Broke it into so many little pieces that no, he can't _fix it now._ He can't, he can't, he simply can't.  
Isaac wants to scream, wants to cower and hide from the world. Instead, he begins to ramble. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. McCall, I didn't think, I panicked, I'll clean it up -". Then, he's crouching down, collecting shards of glass in his palm. His hands have started to bleed even more, they tremble so bad he cuts himself a million times. Still, he doesn't stop.  
Then there's a hand on his shoulder.  
It's on instinct that he flinches and tries to protect his face - even though he knows it'll only make her angrier (he should just take it, like the useless boy he is). Isaac can't do anything about this. His breath catches in his throat.  
"Isaac. Come on. Give me that.", her voice, he thinks, is stern but, at the same time, worried, which almost makes him laugh - why would she be worried for him? Still, he can't disobey her now. This will only get worse.  
Isaac can't look into Melissa's eyes when he hands her the pieces.  
"Thank you", she says, than watches as his wounds close up. Her voice still hasn't lost this strict tone. She glances at Scott, who stands besides her, quietly asks him if he can clean the kitchen, please. Scott just nods.  
Then, Melissa leads him out of the kitchen into the living room. Isaac avoids her eyes, one single piece of glass still clutched in his hand. His ears have started ringing.  
They sit down quietly, she keeps her distance, just watching him. He swallows, coughs awkwardly. He wants to curl in on himself but doesn't. For a while, nobody says a word.  
Then: "Are your wounds healed already?", surprised, he looks at her. Melissa's voice has lost its sternness, it just sounds tired now. And worried. So, so worried. Almost gentle.  
Quietly, Isaac nods.  
She breathes a sigh of relief. "Good. Are you okay?". _This_ , however, is so surprising he's at a loss for words. She exhales, slowly, carefully. Continues to speak.  
"Are you okay? Come on, Isaac, please answer me. You do know that I don't care about that glass, right? It can be replaced. It wasn't that expensive, it wasn't that pretty, it's just a glass. I do, however, need to know if you're okay. You seemed... rather nervous", she laughs, quietly. That is an understatement, and they both know it.  
Slowly, eyes never leaving her face, he nods. "I am so sorry, Mrs McCall, um, I mean, Melissa. I - I - I panicked, I just-", he realises he's rambling and shuts his mouth. Mrs. McCall sighs, runs a hand through her hair. Slowly, carefully, she reaches out to him and this time, Isaac doesn't flinch.  
(Her hand on his cheek is so warm and so comforting.)  
"There is something I need you to know, Isaac. As long as you don't fail a subject, there's no reason for me to be angry about your grades. And even if I'm angry, I won't hurt you, okay? Maybe I'll be a bit disappointed. Maybe you'll get a lecture. But I won't _ever_ hurt you, okay? Never. You need to know that. They're just grades, after all."  
(If her voice had turned sad at that last sentence, neither of them says something about it.)  
Silently, Isaac nods. He can't quite believe her, but he does it anyway. She smiles, ruffles his curls. "Good. I will do everything to show you that you won't get hurt here, I promise". She hugs him, briefly (he closes his eyes, enjoying the moment while it lasts.) Then, she pulls away, ruffles his curls once more.  
"Now what do you say, let's see if Scott already managed to turn the kitchen into a war zone?"  
Isaac can't help the laugh escaping from his throat.


	3. Report Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac brings home less than perfect grades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for not uploading this fanfiction! There's no real reason either, other than me being very stressed those last months. I am very, very sorry.  
> This was... a very difficult chapter to write. I had to stop multiple times, as the topic 'grades' is a pretty difficult one for me. Let's just say I didn't necessarily have the best experience with bringing home bad grades. So I'm sorry if that is strange to read, might have been my own thoughts coming through a bit often.  
> As always, I'm not a native speaker. Please tell me all the mistakes I made.  
> This work discusses child abuse and (too?) high expectations. Please do not read this if that triggers you - take care of yourself. Your mental and physical health always has top priority.

**[3.] Report card**

For Isaac, grades had always been a particularly sensitive topic. Not that he was a bad student; sure, his grades weren't perfect, but usually, they were alright. Most of the time, his father hadn't even really acknowledged his school performances outright. The occasional question, a few stern glances, a disappointed sigh. Sometimes a playful shove, a light smack to the cheek. Now, Isaac knows that even this had gone too far. But back then, it had felt normal. Like a routine. Perfectly acceptable.  
Still - there was one subject he'd always struggled with: Chemistry. Isaac does not even know why. According to his classmates, Chemistry was super easy, not something he should really struggle with. After all, they'd always laughed, it was _self-explanatory._   
Isaac does not think so.  
There is a reason he had always panicked whenever his dad wanted to know about this particular subject. There was a reason he had dreaded every chemistry lesson and every chemistry test. And there was a reason he dreads showing Mrs. McCall - Melissa, damn it, get it into your head - his report card. 

The big black **D** stares back at him, mocks him, whispers _She'll be so disappointed… maybe she will kick you out. Like Derek did. Maybe she will throw something at you… she will be so disappointed._ The voice leaves a cold, heavy stone in his stomach. Isaac grips the paper tighter.  
"Hey, you alright? How are your grades?", he can barely hear Scott's voice over the ringing in his ears, but he can hear Scott whistle: "Wow, Isaac, a D in Chemistry _and_ in History? But hey, don't worry. Your other grades are pretty good."  
Isaac feels ready to run away. A D in History as well? He hadn't even noticed that. _Shit._ Now Mrs. Mc- Melissa would definitely punish him. What if she would lock him in somewhere? Would she beat him? Yell at him? Hate him?  
He feels ready to vomit. Or to run away. Probably both.  
Later, he will think about how he got to the McCall's place. He won't remember.

"Hello, you two! Lunch is on the table, but first - your report cards." Melissa holds a hand out expectantly. Briefly, Isaac lets his eyes glide over her face, down to her feet. She wears her hair in a messy bun today, no makeup. A baggy dark red sweater and grey pyjama pants, no shoes. She looks relaxed. Happy. Calm.  
_Maybe it won't be that bad if she's already in a good mood. Maybe you will just get a lecture - because she promised that, didn't she, the last time you ~~fucked up~~ accidentally broke that glass? She will keep her promises. She won't -_  
"Well, Isaac? Your report card, please, now." Melissa's voice sounds gentle, if the tiniest bit impatient. Her hand is in front of him, palm flat. Ready to take his card. One swift motion and she has it. He flinches. "I… I… I'm sorry. I know it is bad, really bad, I am sorry. I'm sorry.   
I will do better, I promise, I just got distracted with all the other stuff (don't say stuff, use your words, for fuck's sake, his father shouts) and… I… I will do better. I promise, I'm sorry, I -"  
Isaac doesn't dare look at her, look at Melissa's hand gripping the report card tightly, taking in the Ds, taking in the proof he's not good enough. Isaac doesn't even dare to breathe.  
(He wants to bolt, to run, he wants to hide, to go somewhere no one will ever find him, he wants to -)  
"Isaac. Calm down." There is a voice, he realises, but it's not Melissa's. It's Scott. Scott hesitantly untangles Isaac's hand from his hair (when did he grip it?) Then, he steps back. Isaac thinks he can see Scott give his mom a reassuring smile. Then, Scott leaves.

And he's alone with Melissa.  
Melissa, who is still holding his report card, fixing him with a thoughtful look in her eyes. She doesn't yell. She doesn't throw a glass at him. She doesn't hit him. She just stands there, silently, unmoving.  
Isaac gulps. Concentrates on a spot on the wall behind her. He thinks she can see him tremble. He's sure of that.  
Finally, Melissa speaks.  
"Isaac. The last time you… had a panic attack, I told you no matter what, I would never hurt you. And I stand by this promise. I will always stand by it, alright? Now, your report is mostly pretty good, except for the two D's. You'll have to work on that, of course, I can't have you fail. You do understand that, right? And - hey, no, don't panic. I'm not mad."  
Whoops. Isaac might have flinched.   
He tries to focus on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. And out.  
Melissa sets the card on the table, slowly, keeping her hands in full view - for that, Isaac is grateful. He breathes more steadily, now, but his mind still yells at him to escape. Still. He just stands there. Watching. Waiting.  
(Hoping.)  
Hesitantly, Melissa smiles at him. Carefully. He sees her eyes glitter with tears, but that doesn't make sense - she wouldn't cry for him. He is not that important, after all.

Breathe. In. And out.

"Isaac?", she asks him, her voice shaking a bit. "Can I… can I hug you?"  
Those are the words that finally _break_ him completely. Before he registers it properly, Isaac starts crying.  
It's silent crying, soft, but for Melissa, it's heartbreaking either way. She does not hesitate to hug him. For a long time, she just holds him, rocking him as if he were a small child.   
Comforting him.  
Protecting him.  
Keeping him safe.  
Neither of them can say how long the stayed on the floor, later on. There's a quiet voice in the back of Isaac's mind, his father's whisper, telling him to _man up._ He does his best to ignore him.

When they finally stand up, together, Isaac's tears have dried and his legs have gone numb. He stumbles over his feet as well as his words, as he asks her, "You're not mad?"  
She laughs, but it's sad. "No, Isaac. Not disappointed, either. You will have to do something about those grades - look for a tutor, study with Scott, anything - but I'm not mad. You -" she hesitates. "You won't be punished, I promise."  
Isaac can barely stop himself from being so relieved he stumbles against the table. There won't be any hands slapping him in the face, no glass thrown at him, no freezers just waiting for him. There won't be a voice telling him he's a disappointment, he should just get out, shouldn't consider himself worthy of anything good.  
There will just be Melissa McCall - and Scott - supporting him.  
Yes, Isaac thinks. He can live with that.


	4. Claustrophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everybody! I wanted to upload this chapter yesterday, but I totally forgot… I'm sorry. 
> 
> I hope this year will be better than the last one for all of you! :)
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments, hits, bookmarks and kudos - I'm always a bit stunned by the positive reception "So you can learn to be kind" is getting. Thank you!
> 
> As always: please tell me all the mistakes I made in this chapter. And please take care: this chapter deals with mentions of child abuse and claustrophobia. If this triggers you, please don't read. Your mental (and physical) health always comes first.

**[4.] Claustrophobia**

Melissa had asked them to clear out the storage room.

Scott, who was in a very good mood today, had nodded enthusiastically upon his mom's request and Isaac had been glad that his willingness - and Melissa's shock at her son's eager listening - had taken the focus off him, had distracted them both from noticing how stressed Isaac was at the thought.  
The storage room was _small._ _Too_ small - for one person alone, there was already not much room to move around, but for two people, both of them werewolves and one of them super claustrophobic? No matter how much Isaac tried, he couldn't imagine that going well.  
But it was Melissa. Melissa, who had been kind enough to take him in, to give him food, to comfort him after his many nightmares, after that broken glass, after bad grades. Melissa, who only ever warned him, gave him lectures or scolded him lightly, whenever he did something wrong, never hit him, yelled at him or locked him in a freezer. Melissa, who had been nothing but nice to him - and Isaac just couldn't repay her by refusing such a simple task.  
So Isaac had agreed and prayed that she wouldn't notice his trembling hands, his nervous breathing, his uneasiness. And why was he so nervous? It wasn't like Melissa knew what that would do to Isaac. It wasn't like she had done it on purpose.  
It would be alright.

"Hey, you coming? Mom wants us to be done when she comes home", Scott grinned at Isaac, oblivious to his discomfort. He had a glint in his eyes, so Isaac had been right: something (or someone) had made Scott smile. Not that he was very interested in finding out what it was.  
"I… Oh, okay. Yes. Of… of course". He grinned back at the other boy, though it felt more like a grimace. Scott didn't seem to notice. "Awesome".  
Together, they entered the storage room. As soon as Isaac saw the room and how cramped it was, his breath began to quicken. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder to Scott and forced his voice to sound normal: "Could we maybe keep the door open? This way, we can just put all the things we won't need outside". Scott frowned. "Uhm, okay… hey, are you alright?". Damn it. Apparently, Isaac did a horrible job at pretending. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. Then, he nodded. "Yeah. Let's just get this over with."  
Ten minutes, they worked in silence. Isaac did his best to focus on all the boxes in front of him, throwing away trash and re-organising valuables. Mechanically, he sorted through shelf after shelf. Nothing would happen. Scott was with him, they'd be done quicker. Melissa would never lock him in here on purpose and neither would Scott. They could still move around each other, he wasn't locked in, he wasn't locked in, he wasn't locked in, he **_wasn't locked in._** It would be alright.   
The minutes were almost unbearingly long and Isaac didn't even think about what he was doing anymore. Besides him, Scott began whistling some tune. Isaac glanced at the door. Still open.  
Good.

Once again, he concentrated on the boxes in front of him and coughed as he inhaled dust. And then -   
The door shut with an unmistakable thud. Isaac could hear Scott swear beside him, could hear Scott's knuckles scrape along the wall to search for the light switch. Above him, a lamp flickered to life. Its light illuminated the small room (God, Isaac thought, why does it have to be so _small?_ and Scott darted to the door, rattling the handle. He swore under his breath: "Damn it! I should've changed that a long time ago… it's stuck."  
Isaac didn't even hear Scott properly. Somebody whimpered - he was pretty sure it was him.   
**Stuckstuckstuck We're stuck here - I can't _escape_ I need to escape I'm locked in I need - I need - I have to _get out_ dad please let me out let me out let me out let me out let me out I'll be good dad please please I'll do better I need to - help please let me _out_ I'll do better please please please help -**

Suddenly, there was a ray of light. Hands on top of his own, a strong smell of disinfectant, blood and sweat mixed with soap and avocado shampoo (Melissa, Isaac thought and fought a wave of guilt. It crashed mercilessly down on him and he almost drowned in the guilt.)

It was her voice that pulled him back, chased away all these memories (his father would be so angry, but his father _wasn't here._ ) It was her smile that helped him stop screaming and crying and begging. It was her hand that stopped him tugging at his hair, pulling, pulling.   
"He's not here, Isaac. He's not here. You're alright… well, you're safe. Nobody will lock in anywhere. You're safe with us, with me, okay? He won't hurt you anymore". She smiled down at him, next to him but still far away enough so he wouldn't feel trapped. Scott stood behind her, opening a window. The cold breeze soothed Isaac immensely. He nodded.   
"Mrs. - I mean Melissa. Did Scott... call you? Did - did you have to leave because of me? Did I-"  
Scott shook his head. "Mom's shift ended earlier. It's okay".  
Melissa just smiled and nodded, then slowly, soothingly carded her fingers through Isaac's hair. He wanted to lean in. He didn't. _You've asked too much of them already_ , his father's voice yelled. Isaac flinched; Melissa squeezed his shoulder.   
"I am sorry, Isaac. I didn't think of… well… that", that? Scott must have told her. Isaac sighed and began to stand. He tried to ignore the tremble in his voice and he was glad Melissa did, too: "I'm sorry. I just… it was so small and I felt so trapped. I'm so… I'm sorry. I hope it doesn't happen again."

Melissa just smiled, but it was not happy. It was thoughtful. "Do you need some air? We could go for a walk… well, after I've changed", she laughed and Isaac was surprised by the smile on his face.   
"Thank you, Melissa. Just… one second, okay?"  
She hummed in response. "Don't worry. Take as long as you need."


	5. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Uploading pretty quickly? A miracle must have happened! In all seriousness though, I can't believe this is almost over. I do want to write a sequel of some sort, as well as a story addressing the issue with Scott throwing Isaac into a wall. This is not something to be laughed about and I hated how the show handled it.
> 
> On another note: Thank you so much for all your lovely comments, kudos and all hits - they motivate me so much, so thank you!
> 
> I'm not a native speaker. Please tell me all mistakes I made.   
> This story contains mentions of child abuse and unstable living conditions. Please don't read this if that triggers you; take care of yourself. Your mental and physical health always has top priority. 

**[5.] Home**

Home. Being at home. _Having_ a home, not just a house. If someone had asked Isaac what 'home' meant to him just a couple of months ago, he wouldn't have known how to answer this question.  
Now he knew. Living with the McCalls, living with _Melissa and just knowing he was safe, _that_ was home. And he wouldn't have it any other way._

The truth was, when he had lived with his father, his home had not felt like a home at all. It had felt like a house - one Isaac had never really felt safe in, not with his dad living there as well. (Not everything had been bad. He had good memories of his dad as well - but that had been the Before. And he had hated every second of the After.)   
The truth was, when Isaac had still been living with his father, he had never felt _truly_ safe. He had known how easy it was to set his dad off, to make him angry. He had known all of his punishments, had actively avoided going into the basement (if his father hadn't punished him with the freezer) all these years. He had made sure all of the rooms in the house were in an impeccable state all the time (his father had loved throwing things around and at him whenever he had gotten angry and Isaac making sure the rooms were always clean seemed to discourage him from doing so). He had done everything that was asked of him with barely any complaint (sometimes it had seemed as if his father was just waiting for it). Isaac had done all of this and still, his father had always been like a shadow following him around, taunting him.  
With Melissa, Isaac knew he was safe. He knew it was a _home_ he had and not only a house. He knew Melissa cared about him, just as he cared about her. 

"Isaac? I didn't hear you coming. Is something the matter?", Melissa looked up from where she was sitting on the couch in the living room, feet buried beneath a babyblue blanket, a book in her hand. On the table in front of her there's a mug, containing either coffee or tea judging from the way it was steaming.   
Isaac looked down at the floor and made himself as small as possible. He crossed his arms uncomfortably, but didn't move an inch from the doorway.  
"Isaac? What's going on? Are you alright?", he heard Melissa's concerned voice and forced himself to look back up at her. She set the book down but picked up the mug, slowly sipping. "Do you want tea as well?" He shook his head and forced himself to speak.  
"I… well, I wanted to thank you, Melissa. I… I just… thank you so much." He was pretty sure she didn't have any idea what he was talking about. Instead, she patted the space beside her. "Come on, sit with me for a while. I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Reluctanly, he went over to her and sat beside her, keeping his voice level. "I mean all this", a gesture around the room. "You didn't have to take me in that night, you know. And you really didn't have to be so… nice to me. So understanding. So… thank you". He looked her into the eyes, waiting for a reaction, anything at all. 

Melissa was quiet for a long time. Then she placed a hand on Isaac's shoulder. "You really don't have to thank me for that. It's been wonderful to have you here. And don't you dare argue with me", she added, which made Isaac chuckle. The protest on his lips died away and a warm feeling remained.   
He nodded. "Thank you so much for being so kind. I really appreciate it… and, well…". Uncertainly, Isaac gnawed at his bottom lip, tearing off bits of flesh. Melissa patiently waited beside him. After a moment, he continued.   
"Don't take this the wrong way, please… but this feels like home. I love it. And I am so grateful for it."  
Melissa laughed and hugged him briefly. "I am so glad, Isaac. This is all I wanted for you when I took you in. For you to feel safe here and for you to feel at _home_ here.", she whispered, stroking his hair a bit.   
He grinned. "Well, then that mission is totally accomplished."  
They both erupted into laughter. _Yes,_ Isaac thought, _this feels like home._


	6. Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… that's it. That's the last chapter. 
> 
> I just want to say thank you so, so much to every person who bookmarked this, commented, left kudos or even just clicked on this fanfiction! I really, really appreciate it and I was blown away by the positive reception "So you can learn to be kind" got. Thank you so much! This really means a lot.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the last chapter and maybe we'll 'see' each other again? 
> 
> As always, I'm not a native speaker, so please point out mistakes. This work deals with mentions of child abuse and flashbacks. Please don't read this if that triggers you. Your mental and physical health always has top priority and is so important.

(+1)

**[6.] Help**

Melissa was exhausted. 

Wait, no. That was an understatement, a huge understatement. She was completely and utterly _done._ With a heavy sigh, she let the front door fall shut and took off her shoes, before collapsing onto the couch in the living room. For a minute, Melissa just focused on her breathing. She closed her eyes. Maybe, if she was very lucky, she'd have a couple minutes to relax and then -

"Mrs. McCall?", a voice interrupted her thoughts. Swallowing a groan, she opened her eyes and sat up. "I told you to call me Melissa, Isaac", she said, facing him. He looked down, seeming almost a bit embarrassed to be standing here. She saw him swallow and softened her voice. "Is there something I can help you with?". A persistent voice in her head whispered that all she wanted was to be left alone, but she ignored it.

Isaac shook his head, finally meeting her eyes. "No. I… well, actually, I was wondering if I could help _you_ with something, anything at all. You seem quite tired. Was work so exhausting?". He'd moved closer, sitting down on the floor. Melissa sighed and rubbed a hand across her face. "It was just a busy day. Don't worry. We just had many patients coming in today and - wait, did you say you want to help me?". She looked at him, confused. Isaac merely nodded.

"Yes, well, only if you want Mrs. Mc- Melissa.", he corrected himself as she threw him an exasperated look. "Sorry". He swallowed, trying to banish his father's image from his mind. His father had never taken kindly to mistakes, any mistake at all. Logically, rationally, Isaac knew Melissa wouldn't beat him. She was not his father. And still, he couldn't get the image of his dad's hand throwing a glass at him out of his head, couldn't stop listening to his harsh words. What if-

"Isaac?". His head snapped back up. She was staring at him, confused and concerned. "Are you alright?"

Isaac nodded. "Y-yes, Melissa. I'm sorry. I just… I wanted to ask you if I could help you with anything while you relax?" She grinned at him and slowly, he began to relax. She was safe. Being here was _safe._

"Well, look at that. You'd do chores while even my own son wouldn't offer me help", she grinned, so he smiled back, knowing very well that she meant it jokingly. She loved Scott. "If you wouldn't mind, I really need to buy some groceries. I wanted to do it as soon as I came home, but…", Melissa yawned and shrugged. Isaac got up. "Of course. I'll buy them for you - what do you need?"

Roughly half an hour later, Isaac set down the groceries at the dinner table. He'd returned and saw Melissa sleeping on the couch, so he'd gone straight to the kitchen - better not to disturb her. Who knew how she'd react? Besides, she had looked quite exhausted. 

Humming quietly, he began to prepare everything for a proper meal, when he was interrupted by a voice at the door, "What are you making? I thought mom wanted to cook today." Isaac looked up to see Scott leaning against the doorframe. He shrugged. "I don't know, I just thought I could help out a little…" Scott nodded, "Well, I think she planned on cooking Irish Stew today. I'll leave you to it", and he was gone. Isaac's question if Scott wanted to help with dinner died on his lips. Sighing quietly, he began cooking.

Melissa woke up to someone quietly whispering her name. She yawned and blinked, still a bit disoriented. Isaac was standing beside the couch. Confused, she threw off the blanket (Isaac must have covered her with it when he left the house) and smiled at him. 

"I just wanted to say dinner is ready… I didn't want to wake you, so I cooked it myself. Hope that's alright." Surprised, she sat up and lightly touched his shoulder. "Thank you very much! That's lovely, Isaac. You shouldn't have - but thank you! It does smell quite good" Isaac laughed quietly and together, they went into the kitchen.

The food was _amazing_ , she had to admit. Melissa never knew just how good of a cook Isaac was. "This is delicious", she said and chuckled at the shy smile she saw on Isaacs face. Smiling, she continued to eat. It hadn't been her intention to oversleep so Isaac had to cook - he contributed enough to the household already - but she didn't mind. The stew was perfect. Grinning, she took a second helping.

Later, when all three of them had finished eating, Isaac collected the plates to wash up. She stopped him with a hand on his arm and he looked up at her, surprised. "Thank you for dinner, Isaac. It was very good. I can wash these plates, you've done enough, I think." Isaac just shook his head. "Thanks, Melissa, but you deserve a free evening. I've got it."

She nodded, shooting Scott a look. Rolling his eyes, Scott came over to help Isaac, but otherwise didn't complain. Melissa watched them for a while, before leaving the kitchen, smiling to herself.

Isaac had seemed at ease. He'd seemed happier than she had seen him in weeks - and Melissa couldn't help but feel a bit proud of herself. How glad she was that Isaac lived with them - and how overjoyed that he had come to call it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for reading! All of you are awesome! Take care of yourselves, please, and (maybe) until next time. :)
> 
> -Naynda. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is from a song called "Dear Queen of Hearts" by Velvet Moon. I highly recommend it!


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